


PERSONAL SPACE

by thoughtsdemise



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Humor, M/M, prowler smiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7871881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsdemise/pseuds/thoughtsdemise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl needs his personal space, and he makes certain Jazz respects it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	PERSONAL SPACE

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inkfamy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkfamy/gifts), [Rizobact](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rizobact/gifts).



> Prompt: Enforcers fitted with magnetic bumpers to move other TFs out of the way, and Prowl uses it when he needs concentration or personal time. Thank you,Inkfamy, for your wonderful brain.

Prowl looked down at his frame that was covered in a mix of shaving cream and water.  His optics swing to the culprits.  Jazz has the sense to look sheepish.  Sideswipe holds a balloon in his servo.  Both of them and some others are covered liberally in the shaving cream, water, and paint.  Prowl draws a long vent, hitches his sensor panels high and turns on his heel without uttering a signal word.

= = =

Sometime later, a clean Prowl sits calmly in his office, cranking out a few numbers on potential upcoming battle strategies.  His optics flick up to the door to his office when Jazz taps on the frame.  Prowl turns his attention back to his paperwork ignoring the fact that Jazz had a bottle of his favorite high grade and what was most likely energon-silver treats in that box.  Prowl also ignores the bright hopeful light on Jazz’s optical band.

“That door was closed and locked, Jazz.”  Prowl continues to mostly ignore his apologetic lover.  “Why did you hack the lock?”

He hears Jazz clear his vents and take a cautious step into the office.  While keeping his datapad as his main focus, he watches Jazz move deeper into his office.  His frame language screaming caution and apology.  Prowl, however, was not buying it.  After a few inquires, he had learned that it had been both Jazz and Sideswipe that had organized the “food fight” because they had seen it on a human television program.  Prowl frowns at his lover, as Jazz has gotten bolder and is starting to grin when he isn’t immediately removed from Prowl’s office.

Prowl puts the datapad aside and folds his hands.  His digits tap at his chin as he watches the spec ops commander pause at this look.  The look that can stop misbehaving Autobots, including their Prime, in their tracks for the most part.  Not even the Hatchet could intimidate Prowl when he had that look on his face.

“You need to leave my office, Jazz.  Your shift is complete so go recharge in your quarters.”  His field is calm even as he gets a small taste of the confusion in Jazz’s.

“My quarters?  But don’t you mean-”

“I think for tonight, your quarters would be best.”

Prowl can hear Jazz reset his vocalizer.  It’s a narrow margin, but he is able to keep the smile from his face.  Sometime to think about what he had done is just what Jazz needs right now.  And it would help him think at least for a few more clicks about trying to help Sideswipe with an unauthorized activity.

“Aw come on, Prowler-babe, you can’t mean to set me out of our berth.”  There is an inviting purr to the saboteur's engine to entice.

“Jazz,” the warning is clear in Prowl’s vocalizations.  

He watches as Jazz takes a step forward, black digits already wandering over headlights in a tease to draw the optic.  Prowl narrows his optics and activates a system he has not used in months, since the Twins last fiasco in fact.  

Prowl does smile minutely as he watches Jazz impact the magnetic field suddenly surrounding the ex-Enforcer.  Prowl does not give Jazz a chance to further plead his case and amps up the power to push his lover out his door.  He picks up the datapad again with a pleased smile and continues on with his work.  He tosses Jazz a wink when he hears a flabbergasted sound from Jazz’s vocalizer.

“Prowler!  Babe, don’t be-”

“You were given your instructions, Jazz.”  Prowl then turns his full attention to his work.

“Aw c'mon, Babe.  I’m sorry.”

And if Prowl chuckles because Jazz is pawing at the magnetic field like one of Earth’s young feline creatures wanting to get at a treat that it wanted badly…well Prowl wasn’t going to tell anyone.  He lifts a cube of energon and salutes Jazz, calmly working as his mate and lover paws and mewls at the personal bubble Prowl had put around himself.  And Prowl sighs happily as he is able to concentrate without any interruptions.  The smug slagger even begins to hum a happy tune.


End file.
